


A Change From Within

by Casstolemypen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Post-Season/Series 13, destiel smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 20:43:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16312367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casstolemypen/pseuds/Casstolemypen
Summary: Dean is possessed by Michael and may have lost his family forever, unless Castiel and Sam can find a way to release Dean from Michaels grips.





	A Change From Within

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this the week after S13 ended. And it has taken me all summer to complete it. I had a blast writing Dean's battle with Michael. This is what I'd like to see happen. Keep dreaming, I know. haha.
> 
> This was also inspired by a post on Instagram from @wayward_whiskey.
> 
> Any feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading. =)

Dean could feel himself losing control. Michael had lied. Big shock. He knew it would most likely go down that way, but he had to save Sammy. He had no choice. He knew it, Cas knew it. It was clear in his eyes when he offered himself up to Michael. 

 

He fought so hard to stop him, with every ounce of strength he had. Angels weren't supposed to be able to take a vessel without permission. Apparently there was some fine print in the deal that Dean must have missed. He saw the fear in his loved one’s eyes just before everything went to black. Michael was in control now. His human soul was locked away in the dark recesses of his mind. He could sense things and people around him but he couldn’t see them. Being blind sucked! 

 

Out of all the things he could feel, one was stronger and more pure than the rest. He thought it was most likely Sammy. Dean would and had done anything to save him, had done nearly everything to save Sam. Maybe that's why the love was so strong. It vanished like someone hit a switch. Michael must have blinked them out of the church. 

 

Dean went weeks, or what he assumed to be weeks, without feeling that again. His internal clock was all out of whack. Just as he was starting to lose hope, he felt it again! That pure, unfailing love so bright it could almost illuminate the darkness he was lost in. 

 

'CASTIEL!' the growl came so loud it hurt Dean's bored consciousness. 

 

That was Cas? Not Sam? ‘Why does Cas love me so strongly?’ he wondered. Dean had long ago accepted his feelings for the angel but hadn't been able to build up the courage to act on them. He couldn't risk ruining the bond they had. ‘And why would an angel love me’ he’d thought. ‘I’m just a meat suit to all of them.’

 

But now, seeing the love his angel held for him, Dean knew he had to act before he lost his chance. He mustered all his strength. Michael was so focused on his little brother he didn’t see the attack coming. Dean was able to push him down little by little. It took every bit of his hope, strength, and outright pigheadedness. Dean imagined Michael from their own world, locked up in the cage with Lucifer. Bars sprung up around Michael and the door slammed shut. Finally, Dean had gained the upper hand. 

 

"Cas!" he choked out just as the angel’s fist launched at his face. It was too late to stop his assault, but Castiel shifted just enough to only catch his friend on the cheek instead of center mass of his face. 

 

"Dean!" Cas yelled, grabbing him by the sleeves to keep him from toppling over. “Is that you?!" 

 

"Jeez, Cas, thought ya loved me. That ain't how ya show it," Dean quipped, rubbing at his already bruised cheek. It didn’t last long. He was possessed and Michael needed his vessel in tip top shape. Even with him momentarily suppressed, he could still exert his will over Dean’s flesh.

 

Castiel was stunned. Dean was back in control, and knew Cas was in love with him? How? And he wasn't freaked out either. A new feeling, something hot and uncomfortable tied the angel’s guts in a knot. 

 

"How do you know that?" Castiel asked, his voice going even deeper with the nerves. 

 

"I could see it--feel it when Michael had me pinned down." He said no more and the angel understood. He had experienced the same phenomenon with Jimmy when he begged for his daughter’s life.

 

Castiel paced, processing with this new information. He had only paced a few yards away from his possessed friend when he heard a noise behind him and turned.

 

Dean fell to one knee, clutching his head. His fingers dug into his scalp, making his hair stick up at odd angles. Michael was trying to take control again. In seconds, the raven-haired angel was on the ground next to the fallen man, gripping him by his shoulders, yelling.

 

"Fight him, Dean! Don't leave me again!" His voice trembled with desperation. 

 

Dean shook his head with a groan.

 

"I'm alright." He climbed back to his feet and Cas backed away. Now it was Dean's turn to pace. How the hell was he gonna get rid of this pain in the ass angel trying to wear him? He noticed the further he moved from Castiel the harder it got to hold him back. He tested his theory. Dean moved closer and the pain/pressure lessened. Moving away from Cas it got harder to control his movement and thoughts. He could hear Michael pushing him to give in, give up, fail like he did at everything else in his miserable life. 

 

Castiel could see the conflict on his beloved’s face. Worried, he moved closer and it disappeared. Cas had no idea what was going on but could see his presence was, at the very least, a source of comfort. Relief washed over him, he was not being rejected outright. Cas put his hand on the taller mans bicep:

 

"What is happening?"

 

Dean was quiet for a minute, trying to form the words, the right way to explain his theory.

 

"Michael is fighting back...But when I'm close to you he can't?" It came out more as question than statement. This was one of the weirdest situations he had found himself in lately. 

 

"But if you move away, Michael gets stronger." 

 

Castiel slowly walked backwards, testing the theory for himself. He could see the concentration in Dean’s features as he tried to hold Michael back. He got about two car lengths away when it faltered and Dean bent forward, gripping his head again. Castiel rushed back to his side, praying he hadn't pushed Dean too far. 

 

‘Thank you, father,’ Castiel thought out of habit once the episode seemed to pass.

 

Dean groaned, "Guess this means we are gonna be attached at the hip for a while."

 

Castiel couldn't help but smile. It didn’t sound bad to him at all. In fact, it sounded amazing. Dean wasn't rejecting him, they would be spending the majority of their time even closer together than usual. 

 

"Are you ready to go home?" Castiel asked. 

 

Dean agreed and they climbed into the beat up stolen pickup truck Cas still drove. Castiel pointed it towards the bunker and they were off. 

 

"Ya know there are a bunch of cars at the bunker, way nicer than this. You could have your pick--except for baby."

 

"What is wrong with my truck?" Indignation colored his words. 

 

"Well it's stolen for one. It probably hadn’t had a proper tune up in years. It’s got over 200,000 miles." Dean listed but those were all secondary reasons. Cas was silent. 

 

"It’s not safe," Dean mumbled. 

 

The remainder of the drive was silent. Dean warred with his emotions. Castiel was brimming with excitement and happiness at the thought of spending more time with Dean. Trepidation was a close third in his mind. Maybe this could turn their friendship into something more, he could only hope he would be so lucky. Cas parked in front of the bunker, not having keys to the garage. He usually flew everywhere but lately had taken to driving as a way of feeling closer to his missing friend. 

 

Inside, Sam was sitting at the world map table with Jack. Books were spread all around them. It was silent and tense. Sam didn't look up as the door opened. Or ask about his brother. He was losing hope fast.

 

"Hey, Cas." 

 

"What Sammy, no love for your brother?" Dean asked with a grin. Man, it felt great to be back home. 

 

Sam's head shot up towards the voice, gun aimed at his chest. 

 

"Sam put it down!" the angel’s voice boomed, ricocheting off the stone walls. "It’s Dean."

 

Sam lowered his gun, aiming at the floor but still keeping it at the ready as the pair descended the spiral stairs. He was fully prepared for this to be some sort of ruse that Michael forced his younger brother into. Dean hugged his brother tight and Sam finally dropped the gun. It clattered on the cold, concrete floor. 

 

"Wha--how did you expel Michael?" 

 

"I haven't, not yet. I can't," Dean said, eyes jumping between Cas and Sam. 

 

"Then how are you here?"

 

"Cas distracted him. And I was able to take over." Dean’s eyebrows furrowed, pointing at Cas. "Hey, how did you find me anyways?" The thought hadn't crossed his mind until that moment. He had been consumed with the knowledge that the angel loved him back. 

 

"Yeah, you didn't say anything to us about it."

 

"I, uh, could sense Dean trying to fight against Michael. It just took some time to pinpoint his location. I did not want to raise anyone's hopes before I was sure."

 

"Dude, you can't just keep goin’ off by yourself without some back up!" 

 

Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother. They did that all the time. Cas gave Dean a look of exasperation but didn't say anything. It was of no use. 

"Right, so how do we expel Michael?" Dean asked, getting right to the point.

 

"I am not sure." Cas looked to Sam. "How did you expel Gadreel?" 

 

Sam deflated "Crowley." He sunk back into his chair, rubbing his forehead. 

 

Cas shared his disappointment. Crowley had been a major pain in TFW’s ass but he had also come in handy on occasion. It must’ve been a family trait, his mother was the same way. 

 

“Maybe another demon?” Jack asked innocently. He never got to meet Crowley. In fact, the only demon he had any real contact was Asmodeus. He definitely would not help them. More likely he would trap, torture, and use them all. If he were still alive. 

 

“Who else could be as powerful as Crowley?” Sam mused aloud.

 

Dean threw his arms out to his sides in exasperation. 

 

“Oh yeah, let’s just go team up with the demons again!”

 

Sam fixed him with a bitchface.

 

“Why not? It’s not the first time,” he snapped at his brother, “and you aren’t doing any better teaming up with an angel. You had to know he was gonna screw you over!”

 

Sam was on his feet now, chest heaving with anger at his hypocritical brother.

 

“Maybe he did, but you’re alive aren’t you?!” He thrust a finger at Jack before continuing, “Both of you should be thanking me! If I hadn’t made this shit deal, Lucifer would’ve killed you both! I did what I had to do to save this family!” 

 

Cas’ mind flashed back to when the newly minted angel had black eyes. The anger was eerily similar. He feared if Dean kept up his anger, Michael could take advantage and regain control. Castiel couldn’t handle losing him, especially so soon. He placed a hand on his shoulder. He visibly relaxed into Cas’ hand. Sam was too pissed to notice the subtle change in the pair. 

 

“I’m handling it, Sam. Don’t go doing anything stupid,” Dean spoke with finality, leaving the room. Castiel followed close behind quietly. Once in the hall out of sight, Dean looked back to check Cas was still there. 

 

Dean let out a sigh when he saw the (his) angel behind him. They walked in silence to Dean’s room. He opened the door and flopped down on his bed, sighing in comfort. He lied there, arms out to his sides, t-shirt slid up just enough for Cas to see his hip bones and the band of his boxers. Castiel stood just outside the door, unsure of what to do with himself. Dean lifted his head, brows furrowed.

 

“Whadarya waitin’ for?”

 

“It was unclear if I am allowed in your room again, after helping Sam prank you.” 

 

“Oh.” Dean’s mind flashed back to the giant glow in the dark dildo stuck to the floor under his desk. He blushed. Hard. He would never admit to anyone else that he put it to good use that night wishing it was Cas stretching him wide open. He caught the bright red flush.

 

“Dean, are you alright? You are turning red.”

 

“Fine, Cas. Just come in before Sammy sees you.”

 

Cas quickly crossed the threshold and closed the door. His eyes wandered the sparse room. It wasn’t often he was invited into Dean’s room. The bed was the focal point of the room. A brown blanket was pulled tight across it. It would have been perfectly made except for where Dean flopped on it. An end table next to the bed held an old lamp. There was a long shelf over the bed, holding a variety of weapons that he favored. On the sturdy wooden desk was one photo, of the Winchesters and their mom, as adults. Just inside the door was a sink. ‘Odd,’ Cas thought. 

 

Cas pulled out the desk chair and sat, silently. Dean lay on his back, hand clasped on his chest. Castiel’s eyes wandered over Dean, much like how he had studied the room. Dean began to fidget, moving his hands and feet. 

 

“Cas, could ya stop?” Dean’s voice cracked. He wasn’t used to being studied so closely and he didn’t enjoy the feeling. 

 

“I apologize.” Cas averted his eyes to the floor. 

 

Dean huffed and hauled himself into a sitting position. 

 

“This is friggin weird!”

 

“What is weird?” Castiel put air quotes around weird. “And why?”

 

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. He hated talks like this, but it couldn’t be avoided. If this turned out the way he thought it would, he didn’t really want to avoid it. He had waited so long to be with Cas and now knowing Cas felt the same, it had all been such a waste of time. 

 

“This,” Dean pointed to Cas and then himself, “is weird cuz you’re studying me like I’m a friggin’ science experiment. I’m not used to that from you, or hell, other guys.”

 

Cas nodded, catching on some. 

 

“Its weird cuz we’ve been friends for years…” He paused, nervous over his confession. “But for years I’ve wanted more. I was afraid you’d reject me, leave me again.” Dean looked at the floor. Emotions overwhelmed him “I couldn’t take it if you left cuz of me. On a case, sure I can handle that. But every time you died…thought I’d lost my chance to tell you. And every time ya came back I swore I’d do it but I just couldn’t. I’m a coward.” Shame overwhelmed all his other emotions. 

 

Dean’s eyes were downcast (not) leaking tears so he didn’t see it coming, but Cas flitted across the room into his lap. Dean let out a startled gasp. Castiel took Dean’s face in his hands, forcing him to make eye contact. Their noses nearly touched. 

 

“You are many things, Dean, but a coward is not one of them. You have fought off hordes of demons. You run towards danger with no thought for yourself. Your only reason being that someone has to do it. You are currently holding back one of the most powerful angels in this world. It is all part of why I love you.”

 

Holy shit! He said the words Dean had thought countless times but was unable to express. His mouth went dry. He so badly wanted to say it back but he couldn’t make his voice work. He growled in frustration and roughly closed the gap between their lips. Maybe he couldn’t say it but he could damn well show it. 

 

Dean felt sparks fly behind his eyelids. He hadn’t noticed before but even the feel of Cas’ hands on his face was heightened. He could feel each wrinkle and divot against his face, each tough callous against his own stubble. Cas’ lips against his own was the perfect balance; rough and chapped but unexpectedly soft.

 

At first it was just a press of their lips. It was Cas who brought their tongues into it. He was insistent, pressing his tongue against the seam of Dean’s lips until he was granted access. Dean’s hands roamed under Castiel’s trenchcoat. He could feel the muscles beneath the layers of fabric, but it wasn’t enough. He grunted in irritation. Castiel’s clothes vanished. Cas jerked back, breaking the kiss. 

 

“What?” Dean asked eye brows furrowed, eager to get back to kissing the angel. 

 

“How did you do that?” The angels’ eyes narrowed.

 

“Do what?” He was even more confused now.

 

“How did you make my clothing disappear?”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

“You did. How?” 

 

Confusion morphed into awe. Dean’s eyes were blown wide open. 

 

“Can I use Michael’s angel mojo?!” 

 

Cas tiled his head to one side.

 

“If anyone could it would be you.”

 

“Awesome!” 

 

The moment had been broken by the revelation. Castiel rematerialized his undershirt and boxers. He recognized that Dean’s mind was elsewhere now and they had more important things to discuss besides his newly awakened libido.

 

Cas shifted off of Dean’s lap to sit next to him. They sat cross legged facing each other. The pair talked about how they were going to handle this situation. Cas could think of no one who could help get rid of Michael. All the angels were dead or couldn’t leave heaven for fear of it dying. Dean brought up Rowena. Castiel did not trust her after how she made him attack his family. Crowley was gone so that was out. Maybe Jack could help? But he hadn’t been able to use any of his powers since Lucifer stabbed him and stole his grace. It was regenerating, but at an excruciatingly slow pace. 

 

When their eyes grew heavy, they laid down and eventually the conversation faded to silence. It felt natural how they curled up beside each other, with Dean as the little spoon. 

 

The next morning they woke up, a tangle of arms and legs and sheets. Dean lie in bed, eyes closed enjoying the feel of warm skin against his own. 

 

“Dean, would you like to get up for breakfast?” the more alert angel asked. 

 

“Mmm, bacon.” Dean mumbled and rolled out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen behind Castiel. Sam was nowhere to be found. Cas put some bacon in a pan over medium heat. Dean plopped into a kitchen chair while he waited for the tasty breakfast to cook. 

 

Castiel was much more of a morning person than his new roommate. He was already brainstorming new ideas to get rid of Michael as he put the coffee on to brew. He knew better than to ask questions before Dean had at least his first cup of coffee. Placing the steaming mug in front of Dean, he took the seat across from him. 

 

Dean made a happy sound as he took the first sip of the strong brew. Cas then breached the subject of Michael. Dean was surprisingly receptive to the topic. He wanted the angel gone even if it meant losing all the perks that came with it. 

 

They were mid conversation when Sam entered the kitchen. Sweat dripped down his face, soaking into this shirt. It accentuated his muscular chest even more with the fabric sticking to his skin. Gabriel was close behind him. Dean was surprised he was still sticking around. He didn’t trust it at all. Sam splashed water from the sink of his face, turned to his brother.

 

“So we found a case.”

 

Dean looked up at his brother. 

 

“You found a case on a run?” Dean scoffed “No thanks, pass.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother.

 

“No before that. This morning, when regular people wake up.” Sam griped at his older brother. “Anyway, it’s in New Orleans. Every year there’s this celebration dating back to the 1800s. St. John’s eve, and this woman disappeared.”

 

Sam paused and Dean looked bored. 

 

“At first it didn’t seem like much, but every year a woman disappears near the swamps on the same day. And get this, they all look the same.”

 

Sam pulled up some photos on his laptop he had left on the counter and turned it so the others could see. All the women were white, blond, blue or brown eyes, and about the same height. In all the pictures they wore white. 

 

Dean slurped his coffee as his brother spoke. His interest was piqued but he was also enjoying spending time close to Cas in their home. He wasn’t quite ready to take that on the road yet and have to hide it from their annoying brothers. 

 

“I looked back and it’s been going on for years. All the search groups ever find is a white bandana stuck in a tree.”

 

“Yeah, and?”

 

“It’s customary to wear all white with a white head covering to this festival.”

 

“Screw it, let’s go.” Dean gulped down the rest of his coffee and stood. He spotted the bacon sizzling on the stove top and held up a finger. “After bacon.”

 

“Dude.” 

 

Dean piled his plate high with bacon, refilled his coffee mug, and sat back down. Sam huffed and left the room. They had one day to solve this case and Dean was more concerned with frickin’ bacon. 

 

Once he had eaten his fill of the greasy meat, Dean went in search of his brother. His own go bag was already in the trunk. Sam always unpacked his as soon as they returned from a hunt to do laundry and sort it all out. Maybe he was still packing. Dean checked his room first, then the weapons cache. Sam was not in any of the other spots the elder Winchester would expect, like the library or gym. His brother was a health nut and a nerd. As a last shot Dean checked the garage. Sam was sitting in the passenger seat looking perturbed. 

 

Dean climbed into the driver’s side, the door creaking as he shut it. Man, he had missed that sound. Castiel sat behind Dean, as close as he could get in the confines of the car. 

 

“About time.” Sam sniped. Dean grinned, turned the key, cranked the music and revved the engine. In no time they were on the highway headed for New Orleans. 

 

The drive would take about 15 hours if they drove straight through and if it was up to Dean they would. But he refused to let anyone else drive his baby and he was beginning to see things that weren’t there. They stopped at a no-tell motel about half way for the night. 

 

Instead of two rooms, Dean paid for one. Sam noticed but didn’t say anything. Maybe Dean was just being cheap. Or Cas was over protective with Dean holding back his brother. Either way, in their room Dean headed straight for the bed nearest to the door. Gun nestled under the pillow, he stripped from his jeans and t-shirt to his boxers and flopped on the creaky mattress. 

 

Sam changed in the bathroom and by the time he came out his brother was snoring. Cas lay next to him in a t-shirt and white cotton boxers. His eyes were closed and breathing was even. Sam moved around quietly putting his clothes in his bag and shutting the light off before slipping into his own uncomfortable bed. 

 

Cas awoke first. Dean’s arms was thrown across his midsection, their ankles crossed. He carefully extricated himself from his friend, and dressed. Sam was the next to wake up, showering and leaving for coffee he knew would be needed to rouse his brother from bed. 

 

After Sam returned with the needed beverages, they were back in the car within the hour. Sam shared facts and theories about the case as his brother drove. They made it to New Orleans in good time. Thanks to Sam’s research, they found a hotel down the road from where the festival was to be held. They were on the second floor with a balcony overlooking the street. 

 

Normally, Dean would make some skeevy comment about scantily clad women and Mardi Gras, but it didn’t even cross his mind. He was too busy paying attention to the distance between himself and Castiel. Sam picked up on it but chose not to say anything. Lately, he’d noticed a lot of small changes in his brother and the angel’s relationship. Dean no longer got agitated when Cas was too close, in fact it was just the opposite. Dean seemed to be more relaxed with the angel by his side. If one of them moved too far away, the other would slowly follow. If Cas offered to go somewhere, Dean made up a bullshit reason to go along. Like Castiel’s truck wasn’t safe or Dean needed pie ingredients. Neither of them seemed to acknowledge the changes but they also didn’t seem bothered by them either. Not that Sam really cared so long as Michael didn’t take off with his brother hostage again. 

 

The trio each showered and changed after being sticky from riding in a car with no air conditioning for so long. After they were all dressed, they headed out to the swamp. Dean dressed in his usual flannel layers, jeans and work boots. Stepping outside he immediately began dripping sweat. It wasn’t long before he stripped down to just one layer. Castiel couldn’t help but admire the way the black fabric clung to Dean’s shoulders and chest. 

 

Sam caught his eye. Castiel flushed and quickly looked away. 

 

Sam’s dress was much more practical for wandering around in the sweltering swamp heat. He wore a light grey tank top with a pair denim shorts reaching just above his knees, and running shoes. 

 

After a very long, useless day in the swamp, the trio returned to their hotel room. Sam put the A/C on blast and they all collapsed onto their beds. Again, Cas and Dean shared a bed. But this time Sam noticed his brother’s hand curled around Castiel’s wrist. Besides that small bit of contact, they did not acknowledge each other. 

 

Once they had all cooled off, Sam ordered room service for dinner. Dean had his usual loaded, greasy burger and fries, Cas followed suit, and Sam ordered himself a salad, and some other health food Dean didn’t want to identify. Over dinner they discussed their plan for the next day. The festival was coming up in two days, they had no leads, and if they didn’t figure out how the victims were chosen they wouldn’t be able to stop it and get rid of Marie Leaveau. Sam opted for doing his own research at the library and online, while Dean not being one for the books chose to interview some local historians. And, of course, his angel companion would join him. 

 

After dinner, the rest of the night was spent lounging, Sam on his computer, Dean and Castiel watching movies that the shortest man in the group didn’t quite see the point of. 

 

The next morning the two angels dressed in their fed suits and went out to find their experts. Sam stayed in with his computer. He hadn’t found any leads yet but he was determined to find something of use. He hacked into every data base and library he could think of. There was loads of information on Marie Laveau, most of it was based on her race, some on her charity, but none of it was helping Sam figure out how she chose he victims. Were they her followers? Her critics? Were they racist? And why the all-white clothing? He was getting more questions than answers. But even so, this was fascinating to Sam. Still he hoped his brother was having better luck.

 

Dean had located the local historical society on Royal Street. The building was a lively peach color. It held a large assortment of exhibits but Dean had no patience for it. He immediately asked for a curator. They were lead to the offices on a side wing of the building and introduced to Priscilla Lawrence, the president of the museum collection. Dean turned on the charm, asking her question after question. He got some helpful information about the festival. It has started hundreds of years ago. It is a combination of voodoo practices and Christian head washing ceremony, Dean didn’t quite get how that meshed or why, but that wasn’t important. These ceremonies happened every June 23rd and they were held all over, some were larger than others. The most popular and the one the pair was interested in was started by Marie Laveau: a half black, Christian voodoo priestess who lived in the 1800’s. The president shared some conspiracy theories that this ceremony was a cover for Laveau to sacrifice someone to her voodoo gods, the most well-known being Papa Legba. Dean questioned her on this god. He was told that Legba usually appears as an old man on a crutch or with a cane, wearing a broad brimmed straw hat and smoking a pipe. They were warned not to make any deals with him, lest it end with them losing their souls. Dean had to hold back his laughter. It wouldn’t be the first time any of them lost a soul. 

 

After asking all their questions, Dean thanked the woman and they headed back to their hotel. He was thrilled they at least had a name and half a reason for these killings, if not a way the victims were chosen. Maybe Sammy would’ve had better luck with that. 

 

The drive back to their hotel was quiet and comfortable. Dean rested a hand on Castiel’s thigh. Energy thrummed through his body. They had yet to get physical and the tension was building more every moment. It was even beginning to manifest in Dean’s dreams. He would wake up achingly hard wishing his brother was not in the same room, mere feet away. He prayed the case would be an easy open and shut case so he could get back to his own room and have more fun than the little release he had with himself in the showers the last few days. He felt like a teenager all over again, raging uncontrollable hormones and all. 

 

Back at the hotel, Dean, Cas, and Sam all shared their information. They came up with a working theory that it was Marie Laveau. They knew where she was buried but it was a very public place, even more so now that it was the week of her festival. It would be much harder to dig her up than their usual salt ‘n burn case. Not to mention it was a plaster covered, brick mausoleum. 

 

Even if they were able to break in, there was no guarantee that a simple salt ’n burn would get the job done. They had no idea what kind of object she might be attached to. At the very least, they had to try and stop her from killing another innocent. 

 

Over the rest of the day and the next, they laid out a plan on how to tackle the monstrous festival. They didn’t do much else besides eat cheap takeout and watch old movies on the flat screen until it was time to get ready. Sam, ever ready for any situation, had white outfits for each of them. Dean had the usual complaint ready on his lips. It died there when he looked up to see Castiel. His muscles strained against the white cotton fabric of his v neck. The white jeans hugged him in all the right places. Dean could feel his chest constrict and blood rush to his groin. The angel was practically naked in comparison to his usual layers. The brothers wore similar outfits. Sam opted for a white button up and jeans. Dean had learned his lesson the first time and opted for the white t-shirt. He knew he chose right when he caught sight of the shorter man’s eyes grazing over his cloth covered muscles. 

 

The trio left the hotel together, walked the few blocks to the river before they parted ways. They kept their phones handy, with GPS on in case they found anything weird. It was a sea of white fabric. Nearly everyone had some sort of white fabric covering their heads. There was chanting in a language foreign to all three, but it was oddly soothing to Sam. Everyone swayed slightly to the chanting. When the chanting ended, bells rang out from all around them. 

 

At the center of the bridge where most of the crowd was gathered, there was an altar overflowing with candles. As the bells quieted, a chilled burst of air made the candles dance and Dean shivered from his position directly next to the altar. No one seemed to think anything of the chill apart from Dean who called his younger brother quick. The words were barely out of his mouth when a curvy blonde woman a few steps in front of him collapsed. Dean saw her eyes go cloudy white before her limbs failed to support her. 

 

Dean shoved people out of his way. Shouts and curses in French surrounded him. When he got to where the woman had fallen, she was gone! Dean’s head spun in all direction trying to locate the fainted woman. After a few moments Dean spotted her, thrown over another woman’s shoulder. Dean couldn’t make out anything of the other woman besides thick, dark braids falling over one shoulder. She should not have been able to drag the unconscious woman let alone hoist her body over her shoulder and walk away as if it was nothing. Dean yelled for Sam and Cas and tried to shove through the crowd. 

 

By the time they cleared the crowd, the two women were nowhere in sight. 

 

“DAMMIT!” Dean slammed his fist against the steel bridge, a move he swiftly regretted. Even with the angel mojo, it still hurt. He shook the pain from his hand. Cas placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. He relaxed some but his anger was still palpable coming off him in waves. 

 

“Dean, calm down. Well go look for her. You stay put.” Sam said, momentarily forgot the pair of angels vessels couldn’t be separated, lest Michael take advantage. 

 

“Sam, you know we cannot do that,” Castiel spoke quietly. 

 

“Fine, then let’s go.” 

 

Dean and Castiel went to the left and Sam went to the right. They searched until it was well past dark. All they found was a scrap of white fabric. Finally, they called it a night. The festival was over for the year, and Marie Laveau wouldn’t be back for 365 days. Next time, they’d be ready for her. Dean vowed it to himself and to the woman he couldn’t save. 

 

Dean walked quickly back to their room. He was pissed. At himself, at the ghost or whatever the hell she was. He was hardly through the door when he launched a fist through the thin plaster walls. A puff of plaster dust jumped into the air. 

 

“Dean!” Sam barked. Before Sam could chastise his brother further, Dean dropped to his knees, fists clenched at his temples. A groan escaped through his clenched teeth. 

 

“It’s Michael.” Dean gasped. Castiel dropped to a crouch next to him, hands on his neck. 

 

Cas spoke quietly to Dean, trying to coax him out from under Michaels thumb. When talk and touch didn’t work, Castiel resorted to the last thing he thought might work.

 

“Sam. I need you to leave the room.” Castiel commanded.

 

“Like hell!” Sam yelled “I’m not leaving my brother.”

 

“So be it.” Castiel spoke through gritted teeth. Castiel pressed his lips to Deans’. Dean’s body recoiled. He prayed it was Michael’s doing and not Dean deciding he didn’t want Castiel anymore. Dean collapsed against Cas’ torso. 

 

Sam’s jaw dropped. He knew there was something brewing between the pair, but he was not expecting to see it before his very own eyes. 

 

Castiel lifted Dean and gently placed him on their bed. Sam and Castiel sat vigil until Dean awoke. Castiel held Dean’s hand, sliding his thumb over the rough skin. It was the longest hour of the seraph’s very long life. He didn’t know who would be in control, if Michael had been too shocked by Castiel’s actions and lost his grip, or if it was Dean who lost and his plan backfired. 

 

Dean groaned, reached for his head. Cas heard him mumble something about blacking out and knew it was Dean and not his brother. He was so elated he threw his body over top of Dean’s and kissed him again. The revived man reveled in the affection until his brain kicked into gear and he realized his brother was sitting right next to him. The angel sensed the hesitation and broke the kiss. Dean sat up slowly, eyeing Sam. Sam didn’t give a shit about them kissing he was just glad to not have lost his brother again. Sam wrapped Dean in a tight bear hug. Dean was taken aback, his brother just watched him kiss another man and he didn’t even miss a beat. It took a moment for his body to catch up but Dean hugged his giant moose of a brother fiercely. 

 

“I need the three Bs after that.”

 

Sam gave his brother a puzzled look.

 

Dean grinned “booze, burger, and…well the last one used to be boobs but now…I guess it’s…” His eyes raked over Cas still dressed in all white that he managed to keep mostly spotless after their romp through the swamp. “It’s something else.” He grinned salaciously. 

 

Sam suggested room service but Dean wanted to get out and taste the local cuisine. Code words for he needed a better burger than room service provided. As soon as Baby’s doors creaked shut, Dean gunned the engine. 

 

They ate a meal of huge, greasy burgers, drank a few beers and returned to the hotel in much better spirits. It still weighed on Dean’s mind that they hadn’t solved the case but he had gone toe to toe with Michael and won. Again. His brother saw Cas kiss him and didn’t seem to care. Overall, it wasn’t his worst night. Now if only he could get home for some privacy with Castiel. It was another 15 hour drive and Dean was in no shape for that kind of drive tonight. Dean slept a heavy dreamless sleep after his battle with Michael. 

 

They left first thing in the morning, as early as Dean could manage to get up. He drove fast and dangerously, weaving in and out of traffic. Dean needed to be home. He needed Castiel. They made it back to the bunker in record time. Dean nearly barreled into Gabriel on the way to his room with Cas. He was surprised the archangel had stuck around so long. It was only a matter of time until he bailed on them again. Dean detoured around him, dragging Cas with him. 

 

The door banged loudly against the wall as Dean shoved Cas into his room, nearly tripping him in the process. The door slammed shut behind them. There was a predatory gleam in his eye as he approached the angel. Dean clasped the back of Castiel’s neck with one hand and yanked him into a searing kiss. Both men began grabbing at the other, tearing away shirts and coats that were in the way. Once those were out of the way, Cas’ hands went to Dean’s belt yanking it free and tossing it across the room. Dean undid his pants pushing them down his legs. His boxers got dragged down with his jeans. His rigid member bounced free before being trapped between their bodies. 

 

The pair pulled apart just long enough for Dean to extract himself from his boots and jeans. Cas blinked and his own clothes vanished. Dean had to admit while not as hot as tearing at each other in the heat of the moment, it was still pretty damn hot. 

 

Dean’s eyes were drawn down Castiel’s body stopping short at where their erections nearly touched. Dean reached a cautious hand towards them. Castiel made no move to stop it, so Dean pressed their cocks together. The angel’s eyes rolled up under heavy eyelids, lost in the sensation. Dean’s hands were calloused from working on Baby so much but Cas loved it. Dean kept a slow gentle pace as he stroked them. He could feel every cell in his hand against himself and Cas and his throbbing erection. It was sensation overload and he needed to adjust to it.

 

It did not take long for Cas to grow impatient with his pace. Before Dean knew what was happening, they were on the bed with Dean on his back and Castiel kneeling over him. 

 

Now that Castiel had his man in bed, he was not quite sure what he wanted to do with him. He was nervous Dean would back out again. He wasn’t sure how he would handle that a second time. 

 

“Touch me,” Dean whispered. Cas submitted, running his fingertips over Dean’s chest and stomach. He leaned in for a kiss. It was slow and sweet, Castiel’s way of slowing down so he didn’t push Dean too far. His hands slowly wandered to the V leading to the hunter’s groin. His fingers traced the line on one side and then the other before lightly brushing the head. Dean’s whole body twitched, more sensory overload. The raven haired man kept his touch light, exploring inner thighs, and balls. He purposely avoided touching Dean’s cock again. He wanted to know every inch of his partner, see what made his tick. This time it was Dean who grew impatient. 

 

“You don’t have to baby me, Cas. I’m not gonna break.”

 

Cas glared at his partner. Dean waggled his eyebrows.

 

“And if you do, I can just use some angel mojo and be good as new.”

 

Cas rolled his eyes hard, but complied. He claimed Dean’s mouth in a hot kiss, forcing his tongue into his mouth eliciting a moan. His hand wrapped around the base of the taller man’s cock. Gripping him tight, he stroked at a fast nearly painful pace. Castiel was sure it would have been painful if not for Dean’s current possession. For a moment, he was thankful to his other-world brother. 

 

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean groaned. Castiel’s own cock reacted to the thought of doing just that. Cas broke the kiss and clumsily moved down Dean’s body until he was eyelevel with his dick. Castiel admired it for a minute before flicking his tongue over the tip. He was still a bit anxious about Dean changing his mind and had never given head before. Dean moaned so it must have felt all right. Cas repeated the motion, moving his tongue a bit slower. This time, the other man’s hips thrust up in to his face. Emboldened by this, he licked a wet stripe up the underside of Dean’s dick, from base to head. 

 

“Blow me,” Dean moaned. Cas seemed to be doing quite well at taking orders tonight, even though he was on top. He sucked the head into his mouth, brushing his tongue over the tip, savoring the taste and feel. Deans fingers threaded into Cas’ already mussed hair, guiding his mouth. Little praises fell from Dean’s lips, how good Cas was to Dean, how good his lips felt wrapped around him. 

 

Castiel’s own body ached for attention and relief. He let Dean’s cock pop free from his mouth, only for a moment. Just long enough to coat two of his fingers in saliva. Dean was so lost in the pleasure he was receiving, Cas wasn’t sure if he realized why he had stopped. Cas sucked Dean back into his mouth and roughly shoved two fingers knuckle deep into his own ass. He needed Dean, but he knew the prep was necessary. His hips moved in small thrusts, rocking himself onto his fingers. He added a third quickly. 

 

Dean’s hips began moving as well, thrusting himself into Castiel’s mouth. Cas decided they were both more than ready. He released Dean from his mouth and hastily climbed into his lap. Before Dean could put two words together, Castiel lined up his tight virgin entrance with Dean and impaled himself. The angel arched his back and let out a shout. Dean dug his blunt nails into the sheets. Both men took a moment to adjust to the new sensations. Cas, to the burn of his flesh stretching to accommodate Dean’s impressive girth. Dean, to Castiel’s heat enveloping him. It was much more intense than any man or woman he had been with before. He attributed it to their ‘profound bond’ and his new found angel grace. 

 

Dean’s chest was heaving and they had only just begun. Cas slowly lifted himself, loving the feel of his body gripping Dean as he slid free only to stretch him wide open again. Dean’s hands roamed across his angels sweat-sheened, bare skin. He reveled in the feel of the muscles contracting and releasing under the skin, knowing Cas was doing this for him, with him. 

 

“Cas…I’m close.” Dean gasped only moments before a violent orgasm ripped through his body, his eyes rolled back, his back arched and he screamed his release to the room. Cas slowed, stroking Dean through the aftershocks. His own cock has been neglected since before they got in to bed together, he was nowhere near done with his partner. Cas threw a leg over Dean and climbed off of him, allowing him a moment’s rest. Dean’s release dribbled free from Cas and painted a hot trail down his inner legs. Curious, Cas caught a drop with his index finger and stuck it in his mouth. It was all Dean, sweet, but musky. It reminded him of leather and Baby. 

 

Cas grabbed his undershirt and wiped off his legs before climbing back into bed with Dean who was floating in that post orgasmic high and half asleep. Cas assisted Dean in moving over and positioned him on his side with one leg bent. Castiel sucked a finger into his mouth before rubbing it around Dean’s puckered hole. Dean mumbled something unintelligible and arched his back. Cas pressed lightly and this time Dean stuttered “more” under his breath. Cas again followed Dean’s lead. He applied pressure until his finger was enveloped. Cas groped behind him for the bottle of lube he remembered Dean leaving there earlier. It took several moments but he found it without knocking it to the ground. With one hand, he opened it and drizzled the cool gel around his entrapped finger. Dean shivered, but relaxed when Cas began working the liquid into him. By the time he added a second finger, Dean was moaning and writhing against him. Cas didn’t want to hurt Dean so despite the begging for his dick, Castiel added a third finger. Dean’s whimpers and moans were going straight to his cock. Cas was running out of willpower. All it took to break it was Dean’s hoarse voice asking to be fucked. Castiel pulled his fingers free, leaving Dean empty and wanting.

 

“On your knees, Dean.” It was an order but Castiel helped Dean to his knees. “Hands on the headboard.” Dean arranged himself as comfortable as he could be. Castiel added some extra lube to his member. He brushed the head against Dean’s entrance. Dean mewled and Cas took that as the go ahead. He pressed against Dean’s resistance until he slid home. Dean dropped his head to his chest, overwhelmed by sensation. Dean could see his own cock hanging ignored between his legs, and Castiel’s legs beyond his own. It was a fantastic sight he never expected to see. The angel gripped his hips like a vice and pounded into Dean. With each sharp thrust, Dean cried out and the headboard collided with the wall. It creaked a bit more each time until there was a loud crack from beneath the pair. They tried to ignore it, but on Castiel’s next thrust, the headboard snapped in two and the base of the bed slanted, throwing them off balance. They rolled to the floor, knocking knees and elbows. They paid no mind. Cas lifted Dean effortlessly and set him on the desk, facing him. The desk appeared sturdy enough, the angel hoped it would hold at least until he was done with it.

 

“Lean back.” Cas growled. Dean did so and Castiel lifted his legs at the knees. Castiel shoved himself back into Dean’s warmth. Neither man attempted to be quiet, not caring that they were not the only ones in this wing. Two doors down, Sam could hear the wooden desk crash into the wall and every shout from his brother and best friend. 

 

Dean whimpered with each snap of Castiel’s hips, his body growing tired. Cas lost his rhythm as he neared his own climax, he bent his head down and bit into Dean’s chest. His carnal side took over, marking Dean as his as he roared his release. He dropped Dean’s legs, and held himself up against the desk. Chests rising and falling rapidly, the pair took their time catching their breath. 

 

Dean looked at his bed. 

 

“I guess we need another bed.”

 

“A more structurally sound bed.” Cas added. “We could retire to my room if you would like?” he asked. Before Dean had finished nodding they were in Castiel’s room. It was much like his own, minus the array of weapons, records, and flannel. Dean slipped into bed and was quickly asleep. Castiel held him as he slept. 

 

Dean woke up around noon the next day. He stumbled out of Cas’ room headed for his own. He wore a pair of Castiel’s plain white boxers and an undone white dress shirt. As his luck would have it, Sam and Gabriel were in the hall. 

 

“What the hell, Dean?!” Sam asked. Before he could say more or get an answer, Gabriel piped up.

 

“Clearly our brothers are boning. It’s a little gross if you think about it. Ya know, Michael and all?”

 

Dean grunted and pushed past Gabe. It was too early to deal with his shit no matter how great the sex the night before had been. 

 

“Dude wait, we got a case.” Sam called out after him. 

 

Dean turned back to his brother. “Go solve it with him.” He waved a hand at Gabriel. “I’m taking the week off.”

 

Sam scoffed, “So you can screw Cas all week long?”

 

“No, Sam. So I can get rid of this asshat riding shotgun in my head!” Dean slammed his door behind him. 

 

Sam and Gabriel must have taken the case because when he emerged from his room, they were gone. There was no sign of them for the rest of the week, save a few text message updates from Sam. 

 

Dean and Castiel spent the time improving Dean’s control over Michael. He learned how to heal the bruises he acquired when they broke the bed, how to tap into Michael’s thoughts. That was a mistake. He was in bed with Cas, post sex, and his thoughts wandered to the angels being brothers. It was like a voice in the back of his head, only it wasn’t his own. Michael was disgusted with his brother, he was traumatized having to live through such a base human act. It was made even worse that it was his brother with a Winchester. 

 

At first it was only those thoughts he could hear but with hours and hours of practice he began to be able to chip away at Michael’s wall and learn his plans for ending the world. With that, Dean decided if he could not get rid of Michael for good, he would keep him caged in his own mind. He worked at it all hours of the day, trying to keep Michael in the dark. Dean could get used to the angel powers and the marathon sex. Every day he got a little stronger until Michael was trapped in his own private empty in the back of Dean’s mind.

 

At the end of the week, Sam and Gabriel returned. Sam looked worn out, no doubt from dealing with the trickster’s pranks all week. Sam filled in the pair over dinner. Dean made tacos with all the toppings. They had easily figured out who had been causing the haunting. It was practically written in the walls, but she had been cremated. Tracking down the item she was attached to had been a chore. It was the diamond from her wedding ring. It had fallen out of its setting in the wall. It took Sam days of research to learn about her secret, forbidden marriage and the ring she loved almost more than her husband. 

 

They found the ring in the house and torched it. Assuming job done, they headed out but received a call from the owner that the house was still haunted. They turned around and tore the house apart, from the basement up. The diamond had been tucked away in an envelope between the basement walls. No one had any idea why it had been separated. 

 

Sam retired to his room early to catch up on some sleep. Gabriel stayed to pester his least favorite Winchester. Gabriel grilled Dean about Michael and his plans to get rid of him. When Dean finally confessed his plans to keep Michael trapped, Castiel about hit the roof. 

 

“You what?!?” he roared. “How could you think that staying possessed is a good idea?! Every time you work a case and we get separated, he could take over! What happens when you grow older and cannot contain him? What then? He will be free to destroy the world just a few decades later!” 

 

“If we can’t kill him then there is no point in trying to get him out of me. He’ll just find a new meatsuit and go on with his plans. I’ve seen them, Cas. It’s bad. Apocalypse world times ten. He wants to torture us. You and me. He’s gonna enslave all of humanity. And we don’t have any hunters left to fight it!”

 

“You’re forgetting the army we brought back.” Castiel seethed.

 

“A couple hundred people versus the millions Michael can control is nothing but a bug buzzing around his head. He’ll squash ‘em in a minute.” He started pacing “They deserve better than that! If I can save them, I will. End of story.” 

 

“Quit sacrificing yourself! You deserve better, you flannel clad idiot!” Castiel shouted in Dean’s face. He was close enough to see the faintest freckles under his eyes clearly. 

 

Dean wanted to storm off but he knew better than to give Michael any sort of opening. He clenched his fists at his sides. He wanted to hit something. Instead, he launched himself at Cas, shoving him up against the wall with full angel strength. Particles of the cement erupted out of the brick wall. Their lips smashed together in a clash of tongues and teeth. Cas bit Dean’s lip, drawing blood. Dean paid it no mind, claiming the angel’s lips again. It dribbled down his chin. Dean yanked at the angels buttoned shirt, sending buttons and shreds of fabric flying through the air. 

 

“Turn around.” He demanded and shoved Cas until he was facing the brick wall. Dean violently pulled his dress pants down, ignoring the belt and button. Both snapped, and his pants fell to midthigh. Dean held Cas, face shoved against the brick wall, while he wrestled with his own belt. He shoved his pants down just low enough to free his cock. He stroked himself a few times before taking Castiel. He gave no warning or foreplay. He needed to get this aggression out before it consumed him. Dean held Cas to the wall until he was spent. He bellowed his release, pulled himself free, and finally released his partner. Dean tucked himself back into his pants, drained of all his anger. Castiel had not turned away from the wall. Dean touched him lightly on the shoulder, fearful he had went too far. Cas moved under his touch, his face was scratched open from the rough wall. He was breathing unevenly, his own arousal still evident.

 

“Did…did I go too far?” Dean whispered, afraid of the answer. 

 

The abused man shook his head no, and shifted to the side. On the wall, there was evidence of his enjoyment. 

 

“You got off on that?” Dean was shocked. He did that for himself, not for Cas and yet he enjoyed it.

 

“It seems as if I have a kink I was not aware of until now.” 

 

Dean got an ‘itch’ in the back of his brain. For a minute he wasn’t sure what it was. He had to focus hard to recognize it as Michael. He was begging for something. Dean closed his eyes tight and shut everything else out. Michael was begging Dean to stop screwing his brother. It was torture to him. Dean refused to give up Cas again. Michael begged for release to The Empty if that would make it stop. Dean did not trust him at all. He’d need an iron clad plan before he considered letting Michael go even if it was to kill him. He resolved to talk to Sam and Gabriel about it in the morning. Tonight he needed to scrub the wall and get some sleep. 

 

After a quick clean up job, the pair returned to Castiel’s room. With Dean’s bed still broken, they spent much less time in there. Despite Castiel enjoying it, Dean still felt bad for taking his rage out on him. He didn’t deserve the harsh treatment. Dean shuddered, thinking about how bad that could have turned out if Cas had hated it. He could’ve lost him again. Dean had to learn how to control his and Michael’s combined tempers better. Dean quietly stripped and slipped beneath the covers. Castiel followed, wrapping his arms around Dean in an act of silent comfort. 

 

Dean slept fitfully, guilt consuming his thoughts. He woke early, dressed silently and left the room. Sam was in the kitchen eating an egg-white omlette and some gross looking lumpy green liquid. Dean poured himself a cup of coffee and dropped into the chair across from his brother. Sam eyed his brother wearily. It was uncommon for Dean to willingly get up so early. He slurped at his coffee before acknowledging his brother. 

 

“Sammy, we gotta talk.” 

 

“Uh, sure.” Sam replied, putting down his fork. 

 

“Michael. He wants to be sent to The Empty.”

 

“Why?” Sam was suspicious, rightly so. Last time they made a deal with Michael it ended here. 

 

“He says its torture to see me an’ Cas together. He’d rather die than endure us anymore.”

 

“Well, great. How do we get him there?”

 

“I don’t know, Sammy. That’s why I’m asking you. You’re the book smart one.”

 

“Yeah, alright. We can start in the library this afternoon.” 

 

Dean groaned. “I hate research.”

 

“Dude, you know it’s the only way to figure this out. I’m right, you know it.”

 

“Yeah, yeah shuddup Sammy,” Dean grumbled and went to find something to eat. 

 

The two pairs of brothers spent hours brainstorming and researching. Cas and Gabriel took the books in Enochian and ancient dead languages that the Winchesters had no hopes of reading. By the end of the day, they hadn’t come up with much. Dean was still stuck on sending Michael to The Empty, but he had no idea how to guarantee he would not take over again. Gabriel spent a good portion of the day hitting on Sam and pushing Dean’s buttons. 

 

Sam slapped his last book shut. Frustration was clear on his face.

 

“Now what? That’s the last book and nothing on how to trap an angel without him taking another vessel.” 

 

“What about some serious warding to keep him from using his powers?”

 

“And then what?” Sam snapped “We can’t kill him while he’s possessing you.”

 

“Gabriel, you gotta know something useful here. Is there anything we can use to trap him? Like the cage?”

 

“Short of a special fieldtrip to hell, no. And even that would mean trapping you.”

 

“Is there a spell that would send him there?”

 

“Not without you first expelling him. And he would probably take off first.”

 

“FUCK.” Dean yelled and kicked a desk. He stalked out of the library. He couldn’t take the useless research anymore. He got in the front seat of the impala. With a deep breath, he reached back into his mind looking for Michael. It wasn’t hard, Cas was far enough away that Michael could try and take over again. Maybe if he tried hard enough he could probe his mind and find a solution. Michael was less than cooperative, trying to fight back against Dean. He didn’t really want to go to The Empty, but he couldn’t bear to be caught in the middle of Castiel’s abomination of a relationship. Dean flinched at the words. He knew how all the other angels felt about it but hearing that in his own head was shaking. Michael’s disgust gave him an idea, not on how to be rid of him but to make him more pliant and easier to control. It was a start, at least. 

 

Dean rushed back to the library. The trio still had their head bent over books that had so far been useless. He bent down to Cas and spoke quietly in his ear. 

 

“Care to share, Dean-o?”

 

Dean was hoping he could get Cas out of the room, away from their brothers before discussing his idea. No such luck.

 

“Not really, no.”

 

“Dean.” Sam fixed his brother with that annoyed look. 

 

Dean shifted uncomfortably. “I—I had an idea on how to at least control Michael.”

 

“Yeah?” Sam sounded excited. 

 

“He, uh says it’s torture when me an’ Cas…” Dean trailed off. He really did not want to discuss his sex life with his brother, much less Gabriel. 

 

“You mean how Michael and Cassie are brothers and yet you two still go at it like a couple of animals?”

 

“Gabriel!” Castiel’s bellowed. 

 

“How does that help?” Sam ignored Gabriel’s comments, and tried to understand his brother logic.

 

“I—we can control him. Keep him from fighting back. If he’s too traumatized, too weak to take over then he’s no threat to me.” Dean was pacing again. “At least it’s a way to keep him down until we can get him outta me and trapped.” 

 

“So you’re gonna torture him into submission?” Gabe asked with a laugh. “That sounds more like Luci than you, Cassie.”

 

“It’s a start, I guess.” Sam shrugged “but uh, move to the other side of the bunker first.” 

 

After their conversation, the couple retired to Castiel’s room. Sam retreated to the kitchen to make himself dinner. Gabriel disappeared which was of great relief to everyone else. Sometimes he was too much to handle. They weren’t real sure on where he went but no one seemed to mind. 

 

The rest of the night was quiet. The trio ate dinner together and then returned to their own rooms. 

 

The next day, Dean’s restlessness got the best of him. He started cleaning all the dorm rooms in the bunker. Some of them hadn’t been used in decades. Just opening the doors could send Dean into a sneezing fit. After two hours and one room down, Dean moved on to the next. It was not nearly as dusty as the first one. Looking around, he could tell it had been used recently. This must have been Chuck’s room, before he took off again. Dean’s mind wandered back to that particular apocalypse level threat. It had been nice to have Chuck around when they needed his help for once. Before that the only sort of help he gave was weird objects half way around the world. It hit him!

 

Dean took off down the hall.

 

“CAS! SAMMY!” He shouted throughout the bunker. 

 

Sam slid through the doorway into the hall, nearly colliding with the opposite wall. 

 

“Dean! What’s wrong?!”

 

“I got it!” Dean shouted, panting face bright red from sudden exertion. “I know how to get Michael.”

 

“Wha—How?”

 

Dean again bolted down the corridor towards Cas’ room. 

 

“Dean!” Sam jogged after his brother. 

 

Dean thundered through the door. The room was empty. Dean turned around but his gigantor of a brother was blocking the door. 

 

“Dean, tell me.”

 

“The hand of god!” Dean paced at foot of the bed.

 

“We used them all.” 

 

“No, a new one.” Dean’s hands went to his head. “Chuck was here! He touched things!”

 

Realization dawned on Sam and a smile spread across his face to match his brothers.

 

“So maybe his power was left on something. What are we waiting for? We got to find his room.”

 

“I know where it is. But we need Cas. He can sense it.”

 

“He’s out. Said he had something he needed to do. We can start without him, maybe you can sense it. C’mon.” Sam jerked his head towards the door and left the room. They walked back towards Chuck’s former room. 

 

Dean slowly swung the door in. The brothers looked around, unsure where to begin and a little afraid to touch anything. 

 

Sam looked to his brother, “Feel anything?”

 

“Only that God was a slob.” Dean snorted and stepped into the room. He walked around the small space focusing on sensing any other energy. At first it was barely there, he just felt like he should be by the desk. The closer he got the more intense it became, like a magnet drawing him in. The desk didn’t look like anything special, just a beat up desk with old names carved into it. There were some old dishes (luckily not growing anything). Dean grabbed a rag and started picking up objects of the desk. He began with the less disgusting items and left the old dishes for last. He was down to the last two items. Dean tossed a pencil over his shoulder.

 

“This is pointless! Why would a pen be a hand of god?” Exasperation soured his mood. But still, that pull persisted, Dean was compelled to keep trying. Reluctantly he picked up the lone coffee cup.

 

“Holy shit Sammy! This is it!”

 

“A teacup?!” His skepticism was evident.

 

“Sam. It’s oozing with His power. Ask Cas. You’ll see.” 

 

“But why a teacup?”

 

“I don’t know.” Dean scoffed, “Maybe it was His favorite. Why don’t you go ask Him?”

 

Sam glared at his brother.

 

“Oh yeah, you can’t. He’s missing again!” Dean took the cup to the library to get a better look at it in the light. It was just a cup. White porcelain, chipped rim, and from the looks of it, sticky. Gross.

 

“Can we wash it?” Dean asked, peering into it. He was fine with blood and gore, but sticky, germy things made him cringe. 

 

“Dude.” 

 

“What? You’re not the one whose gotta put his lips on this thing!” He set it down on the nearest table. 

 

Jack walked into the library just then. 

 

“Put your lips on what?” he asked, brows furrowed so much like adoptive father figure. 

 

“That cup.” Dean gestured at it. “It should help me get rid of your asshat uncle.”

 

“Michael? How will a cup help you stop him?” Jack asked as he reached for the cup.

 

“Yes, Michae—“ Dean was interrupted but Sam yelling and lunging at Jack. 

 

“What the hell Sam!” Sam was breathing hard holding Jack’s wrists in a death grip. The kid looked stunned at the outburst.

 

“Jack, you can’t touch the cup. It’s a Hand of God.”

 

“Hand of God?” 

 

“God touched it. It has special powers that might help Dean get rid of Michael. But once you touch it, it’s used up.”

 

“I see.” Jack spoke slowly, his tone serious. “I won’t touch it.”

 

Sam finally released his hands. Dean grabbed the mug with the rag and stalked down the hall. He detoured to the storage unit for a box to place the cup in. He couldn’t risk someone accidentally touching it. 

 

Sam set to work in the library on angel wards. Jack, being part angel, could make out parts of the lore. After hours of poring over the vast library all they’d managed to find was a few obscure references to the wards they needed. Sam wasn’t surprised, the angels wouldn’t leave that kind of book lying around. 

 

Dean lay in bed, waiting for his angel’s return. He knew his idea was far-fetched but since when did they work off anything more than that? He had almost fallen asleep when he heard that familiar ‘whoosh’ of Castiel’s appearance. 

 

“Cas.” He mumbled. The angel stripped off his trenchcoat and suit jacket and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Dean. 

 

“Yes, Dean, I am back.”

 

Dean’s eyes snapped open. He had to tell Cas about his idea. Cas sat quietly listening to Dean fill him in. It was all a bit jumbled by Dean’s excitement, but Castiel got the gist of it. Dean found a Hand of God and wanted to know how to alter it to hold Michael. 

 

Castiel contemplated the idea for a few moments. “It’s possible. If we knew the warding, I could etch into the cup the same was I did your ribs. Castiel unconsciously touched his fingertips to Dean’s chest as if checking the warding he had put there so long ago. After this last bout with Michael absconding with Dean hostage, the seraph had altered it slightly so he could find Dean. 

 

“I would have to go upstairs. I don’t know the exact combination.” 

 

“Take me with you.” 

 

“What?”

 

“I’m not letting you go back up there alone. How many times have they tried to kill you or capture you? And now with Heaven dying, I doubt they would let you go.”

 

Castiel’s eyes sparked. “What if we could send Michael upstairs?”

 

“You’re crazy.” Emotion colored Dean’s cheeks.

 

“We could imprison him there, in Heaven’s dungeons. It would save Heaven and you. Why do you call that crazy?”

 

“Because he would get out. He would come back and kill everyone anyways.”

 

“And how is your plan any better?”

 

“He’d be dead! Gone forever.”

 

“I came back from The Empty.”

 

“Yeah, only cuz of Jack. And he’s powerless now.”

 

Cas huffed. Dean had a point. The Empty was the safer option, but Heaven needed to be saved. It was still his home even after everything he had been through. His mind wandered away from Michael and towards his future with Dean. He wasn’t certain they would be this close ever again. And in bed, he would have to be much gentler to avoid harming the human. Dean must have been able to read the thoughts on his face. He reached for the angel’s hand, intertwining their fingers. 

 

“Cas. It’s gonna be fine. I’ll be fine.” His typical bravado was there, but much softer, meant to reassure Cas and not himself. “One last go before this asshat is gone?” Dean asked with a hungry grin.

 

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel’s worries vanished with those words. How could he worry when it was so clear Dean could not get enough of him?

 

Castiel grabbed Dean by the throat, shoving him back against the headboard. If this was the last time they could be rough, Dean was gonna make it worth it all. Dean crushed Castiel’s wrist in his grasp and twisted it behind his back. 

 

In a blink, Castiel was naked and bent over the bed. Dean bare chest was pressed against his back. 

 

“We’re gonna do this my way.” Dean growled into the angel’s ear. A surprised moan sent a shiver down Dean’s spine. Dean tweaked Cas’ left nipple hard enough for him to feel the bruise forming. 

 

Dean took full advantage of his angel powers. Slick coated Castiel’s back passage instantly. Cas was surprised by the sensation. Dean had learned far more than he knew of how to use Michael’s power. Dean lined himself up with his lover. With no prep, Dean drove himself into Castiel’s tight channel. Castiel rocked his hips back onto Dean’s cock. 

 

The pair ground their bodies together as if it was their last chance to be together. Which, in a way, it was. Dean would not be able to give or take this much delicious punishment once Michael was gone. He tried not to think about it. His eyes prickled with sadness at the knowledge he might not be able to satisfy Castiel again. Goddammmit he was not going to cry in the middle of the hottest sex of his life. Dean growled in frustration, bit down into his lover’s shoulder, drawing blood. Castiel shouted and punched the wall. A crack split through the bricks from the headboard up to the ceiling. Dean jumped from the unexpected quake. With renewed fervor, the human-turned-angel thrust forward into the seraph at his mercy.

 

“You’re so fucking hot like this, Cas.” The angel beneath him couldn’t respond because Dean chose that moment to thrust the breath out of him once more. The only sound that escaped him was a loud groan. Dean grabbed onto dark locks and sat back so that he could watch his cock piston in and out of the abused hole hungrily taking him in. “Your hole is so red right now. Bet you’re gonna be sore from this.”

 

“God, I hope so, Dean. Love taking your cock.” The angel clenched down and Dean couldn’t help the surprised groan he gave in response. Yanking even tighter, Dean used his grip on Castiel’s hair as leverage to pound into the seraph steadily, building a rhythm that had them both crying out their climaxes in nearly no time at all. The pair collapsed onto the bed to recover in their after glow. Before long, they were asleep.

As usual, Sam was up much earlier than Dean. He might not need the sleep now but he still enjoyed it. Especially with Castiel at his side. Sam knocked on the door. 

 

“Cas, Dean. You guys awake?”

 

Dean made sure they were both adequately covered by the sheets before he answered his brother. 

 

“Yeah, Sammy.” Dean called. Sam opened the door, mouth open to speak. His eyes went wide when the saw the crack over their bed.

 

“What the hell, Dean?”

 

His brother’s eyes followed his up the wall. 

 

“Oh, that.” Dean said disinterestedly.

 

“I’m not gonna miss you guys going at it like animals all the time.” Sam griped.

 

A salacious grin spread over Dean’s face.

 

“We won’t stop.”

 

“No, but maybe there will be less property damage.”

 

Gabriel, with his immaculate timing walked down the hall as Sam was trying to figure out how bad the damage was. 

 

“Hm, Sammich maybe we ought to take a page out of their book.” He waggled his eyebrows at the taller brother, smacked his ass, and walked away. Sam’s face drained of all color. 

 

Dean furrowed his brows, trying to decipher the trickster’s meaning. Was it a prank or was Sam busy shacking up with him? Sam mumbled some piss poor excuse and ran down the hall after the trickster. Dean was up and after him in seconds. He needed answers. He cornered his brother in the library. 

 

“Sammy, what was Gabe talking about?” His voice had that singsong ‘I got dirt on you’ quality to it. 

 

“Nothing.” Sam snapped, eyes darting around for an escape.

 

“Sam.” Dean stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a shit eating grin on his face. “What have you been up to?”

 

“Nothing. He’s just messing with you.”

 

“Then why are you so desperate to get away from me?” 

 

Gabriel popped in, behind Sam.

 

“Am I just fucking with him?” he asked Sam.

 

Sam sidestepped and turned, facing the angel who wasn’t there moments before.

 

“Sammy, are you fucking the archangel after all the shit you’ve gave me ‘n’ Cas?”

 

Sam faced his brother; Dean could see his brother’s pulse racing through his veins.

 

“Now that I think about it, he does follow you everywhere like a lost puppy since he got back.”

 

“Oh and you don’t follow Cassie like that, Dean-o?”

 

“I’m not an all-powerful asshat!”

 

Gabe put a hand to his chest in mock pain, “Ow, Dean. Your words wound me so.” 

 

“Bite me, Gabriel.”

 

“Ooh so not tempting.” Gabriel snapped “But what is tempting….” He snapped a second time. Dean found himself suddenly much closer to the ground. He looked down and saw a set of dark brown paws. They were attached to him! He cocked his head to one side, looked to his brother. Sam’s jaw fell open. His brother was an adorable little German Sheppard. Dean was no more than two feet tall, one ear pointed in the air one flopped over the side of his muzzle. Dean moved to all four….legs. This was a trip. He tried to speak, all that came out was a whine.

 

“Gabriel! Change my brother back!” Sam yelled. 

 

“But, Sammy, has so much cuter and less pesky this way.” 

 

Gabriel knelt down in front of him. Dean growled. It wasn’t a very intimidating noise. 

 

“Aww, you make a cuter pup than a human,” he laughed. It was a booming sound to Dean’s overly sensitive ears. Gabriel materialized a cell phone in his hand and snapped a picture of Dean, probably for blackmail later. Dean whined again, and as if he had no control over his body, peed on the floor.

 

“Come on, Dean.” Sam grumbled. He scooped up his brother in one arm and went to get paper towel and cleaner to clean up his brother’s mess. 

 

“Change him back!” Sam yelled again.

 

“No fun.” The trickster grumbled and Sam quickly found him trying to support 180 pounds of brother in one arm. Dean crumpled to the floor in a heap.

 

“What the hell, Sam!” he grunted.

 

“Bitch at him, not me,” Sam yelled back. “And clean up your own damn mess.” Sam stalked back down the hall towards his room. Dean looked at the puddle on the floor and blinked it away. 

 

“Shit I won’t miss you when you leave.”

 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Gabriel cooed, eyes flicking in the direction Sam went. 

 

Dean took a moment to settle himself. He needed Gabriel’s help as much as he did not want to admit it. 

 

“What do you know about Heaven’s jail?”

 

“What do I know about it?! I spent a long time in there before I made my escape.” Gabriel almost gloated.

 

“Would it hold Michael?”

 

“Why?” he narrowed his eyes.

 

“Cas wants to send Michael there, to save Heaven. Instead of sending him into The Empty.” Dean sighed “Will it hold him?”

 

“It’s possible. But, good luck getting there.”

 

Dean was already trying to plot out how they could get there in his head. They knew where the gate to heaven was. Both Castiel and Gabriel had been imprisoned there, they lived and worked in Heaven for eons before they both left. They should have a pretty good idea of where it was located. And with so few angels left, it probably wouldn’t be heavily guarded. Hell, they should be happy to have such a high-powered angel back to help keep Heaven alive. But then if it was poorly guarded it would be that much easier for Michael to break out again. An idea sparked just then. In order to get Michael out of Dean and keep him from fleeing, they could trap him in the Hand of God tea cup. If they left him trapped in said cup, it would be an added layer of protection. In order to do that, Dean needed the help of the angels left in heaven. He hoped that they would hear him out and see the value in Michael. 

 

“Gabriel, I need you to go to Heaven with me.”

 

Gabe wasn’t sure he heard the elder Winchester properly.

 

“Excusez-moi?” he asked.

 

Dean was sick of this already, he really wanted nothing more than to rip the trickster’s head off in retaliation for everything he had put the Winchester family through. 

 

“Cut the shit, Gabe,” Dean snapped. “I need them to help keep Mike under control and I will not let Cas go back up there.” 

 

“Aww, how sweet.” At the word sweet Gabe remembered he hadn’t had any sugar for the length of the conversation, he materialized a dum dum in his mouth. “Trying to save your sugar daddy.” 

 

Dean clenched his fists, popping several fingers. The urge to blast him was getting harder to resist. 

 

“Shut the fuck up and be helpful for once!” Dean shouted. He could hear his blood roaring in his ears. “Take me to Heaven. It’s in everyone best interest to get rid of Michael. That includes you! Why can’t you just be fucking helpful in that?!” 

 

Gabriel did not scare easily but blatant fury was evident in Dean’s face. He could see the risk in pissing him off further. He had no interest in actually helping Dean. He was ambivalent to Dean, as a person. He only cared about this at all, for purely selfish reasons, as was his MO. He cared because Sam cared so deeply for his brother, he cared because not caring meant the end of his own life and that of his current beau. 

 

With a snap of his fingers, Gabriel and Dean were standing next to an inconspicuous looking sandbox. It was no longer guarded. The playground was empty and silent. Gabriel stepped forward. Ropes of flowing lights snaked their way out of the sand, intertwining themselves into the gateway to Heaven. Dean stepped through with the less than willing archangel behind him. 

 

The last time Gabriel had been here, it was bustling with angel busybodies doing ‘God’s work.’ Gabriel snorted at the thought. When was the last time God had been here and made any kind of decree about what he wanted? It had been centuries since he made any kind of God-like decision. 

 

Upstairs, the pristine white hallways were nearly deserted. Both men were relieved they weren’t slapped in angel proof cuffs the minute they made it through. Gabriel took the lead, down identical white halls, turning back and forth several times. They only saw one or two angels on their trek to the cells. No one bothered to stop them. They all knew of Gabriel at the very least. No one cared why he was there or why Dean was with him. They only cared that for the time being, the rolling power outages had stopped. It was a nice break from the near constant flickering. No even batted an eye at the pair. 

 

After so many turns that Dean would be unable to find his way back out by himself, Gabriel stopped in front of a door. There were no distinctive markings on the door, to differentiate it from the dozen other doors in the hall. Without a word, Gabriel pressed his palm to a particular spot, opened it, and stepped through. Dean had been expecting more security, a guard, something. But then, maybe smack dab in the middle of heaven was one of the hardest places to get to. And most people wouldn’t expect there to be a prison there. 

 

It was as if they stepped back in time. It was another hallway but this one was built of hand laid stone. The walls and floor were all uneven. Along the right side, were bars separating 8 by 10 cells. No one occupied the cells now. Dean could see faint lines in the stones. They almost shimmered as he walked around the room. 

 

“Gabe, what’s with the shiny carvings?”

 

“You can see those? Huh...” Gabriel moved about the room “Those are the warding’s. Only the most powerful angels can see them. Must be big bro’s doing.” 

 

“I can’t make out what they are.” 

 

“You’re not supposed to see them at all.”

 

“Can you see them? I can’t write ‘em down if I can’t tell what they are.”

 

“Well, shit.” Gabriel sighed. “So this was a wasted trip, then Dean-o?”

 

“Why can’t you see them? You’re an archangel for Christ sake!”

 

“Oh” Gabe put a finger to his lips “I didn’t say that.”

 

“What the hell?!”

 

The archangel smirked. “You said a trip upstairs. You needed a tour guide. No one said anything about translating ancient heavenly secrets.”

 

Dean scoffed. “What do you care? You booked it the second things got hard. Each and every time. Heaven needed you, you ran. We asked for your help you, ran—wait, no.” Dean pointed at the shorter angel, “You tortured Sam by killing me a hundred times. And then you ran.” 

 

“Oh, I don’t really. I just love fucking with you.”

 

“Why? Why me?!” Dean shouted, his words bouncing off the stone walls. 

 

Gabriel laughed, and threw his arms wide open. “Because it’s fun! Look at your reactions. You blow up.” Gabriel mimed an explosion. “What could be more fun than that? Oh and Sam! Always trying to save you.”

 

“But if you’re fucking him, don’t you care about him? Don’t you care that it hurts him?”

 

Gabriel was silent, his brow creased slightly. Of course he cared about Sam, but old habits die hard. He had been screwing with the brothers for years. It had become a part of who he is now. And he didn’t really believe in people changing. Could he change who he was? Christ, he was having an existential crisis in front of his least favorite human. Gabriel’s face contorted into a look between rage and inhuman pain. The words ‘I’m sorry’ echoed inside his head. He knew Dean deserved more than half assed words after the hell Gabriel had put him through. Not only that, he was damn sure he couldn’t make himself say those words. 

 

“Fine” Gabriel choked out the word. With a snap he had a pocket sized notebook and began scribbling down each symbol in order. Dean watched as Gabriel created each image seemingly from nothing. Once he completed it, he shoved the book against Dean’s chest without another word. Gabriel exited through the door they had used to access the chamber, without looking back. 

 

Dean scrambled after him, not wanting to get lost in that maze again. Dean caught up with his unwilling guide just as he was making his way around the first of many turns. Dean stuck the small note book in his back pocket as he hurried after his guide. 

 

“Dick,” Dean muttered petulantly. His temper had chilled considerably but he still didn’t like the guy. He didn’t think he ever would and now on a brotherly level since Sam’s heart was at risk. Sam always fell hard and it never ended well. Dean hated being the one left to pick up all the pieces. He deserved a ‘happily ever after’ ending if anyone did. 

 

The pair walked the rest of the way to the gate in silence, both lost in thought. It didn’t occur to either of them that the nine angels left in heaven would not let them leave. It had been so easy to get in, they expected nothing else on the way out. 

 

When they reached the gate, two of the largest men Dean had ever seen stood shoulder to shoulder, with the smaller but no less powerful angels flanking them.

 

“Shit.” Dean grumbled. 

 

Gabriel’s archangel blade dropped from his sleeve in his hand. Dean pulled Ruby’s knife from the back of his belt. He got in his typical fighting stance. One foot behind the other slightly, knees bent, and arms up in front of him. 

 

“C’mon, bitches, let’s do this!” Dean growled. The angels needed no more encouragement. Without a word they advanced. Not one of them raised a hand to Dean. They needed him alive. It would be better if they could just corral him back into the jail. But Dean wasn’t going to let it go that way. 

 

The moment they were close enough, Dean and Gabriel swung almost in unison. Gabe just managed to scratch the tallest angel’s cheek. He didn’t even flinch, just kept advancing. He threw Gabriel against the opposite wall. He landed with a grunt and his angel blade rolled away from him. 

 

Dean had a little more luck. With Michael’s powers behind his swing, he was able to push through the angel’s defense and impale him to the hilt. As it did every time an angel died, pure white light shot out of his eyes and mouth and the corpse dropped to the floor. Unlike, every other time an angel died the lights in Heaven flickered for a few seconds before finding enough energy to stay on, at a slightly dimmer level. 

 

The arch angel pulled himself along the shiny white floor towards his blade. Just as his hand wrapped around it, the larger angel gripped him around the legs. Gabriel rolled to his back and kicked the angel in the face. It was just enough to momentarily stun him and this time when he swung, he caught the angel in the side of the neck. The blade ripped out the other side of his neck blood leaking out around it. He screamed, lights flashed, and dropped on top of Gabriel. Again, Heaven’s power cut out. This time it look a few moments to come back on. 

 

The remaining angels looked at each other in concern. With a nod from what had to be the angel in charge, they all dropped their weapons. Dean kept his blade at the ready, expecting some kind of trap.

 

“Wait. We can’t keep this up. Heaven will die!” she pleaded.

 

Dean shrugged “Not my problem, lady.”

 

“But-but it will be. When you die, you’ll be stuck in limbo if Heaven dies. Or think of all the souls that will be thrown back to earth. You hunt them. Think of how much work that would be for you and your brother.”

 

“Good thing I like my job.” He moved slowly towards the gate. The angels backed away from him. 

 

“Dean! A little help before you just leave me here!” Gabriel called from under a mountain of a corpse. Dean contemplated leaving him there but Sam probably wouldn’t like that. Dean freed Gabriel from the corpse holding him down and addressed the angels.

 

“Well, it’s been fun but we’ll be on our way now.” 

 

Every angel had a look of horror on their faces. They had just lost two angels of the nine who remained in heaven. That significantly decreased their ability to keep Heaven alive. 

 

“Please! You can’t leave! We are all that’s left.” Their eyes pleaded with Gabriel. They already knew Dean didn’t care, maybe their only surviving archangel would. Gabriel looked at each one of them.

 

“You know, I left Heaven long ago to avoid this bureaucratic bullshit, oh and Daddy dearest.” He materialized a sucker in his hand and paced around a bit. “And it’s been fun. Real fun, all the pranks I’ve played, people I’ve met…So why in Dad’s green earth would I want to stay here? Where it’s boring and white and nothing but work? And dad doesn’t even think you’re worth saving.”

 

“You’re wrong!” the lead angel yelled.

 

“Oh, am I?” Gabe put a hand to his chest, “Well then where is He? Your almighty God?” He waited for an answer. “Really, where is He? That’s right, he left! And not for the first time. God left you. He doesn’t care about you or me, or the humans. Only Himself.” He was raging now, furious that God would leave, furious that the angels felt it was his responsibility to fix it. All he wanted was a fun, relaxing life filled with pranks and candy. “Dean, let’s go.”

 

Gabriel stalked to the gate with Dean close on his heels. Once back on earth, Gabriel blinked them back to the bunker. Neither one, thought anything about how beat up they might be. The pain didn’t phase either one of them, having grown to learn how to cope with it. 

 

Sam and Castiel were sitting at the table in the library when their respective brothers blinked in to the bunker. It was odd the pair would willingly spend any time together. As Sam and Cas looked at them, they both shot up from the table.

 

“What the hell happened to you guys?!” 

 

“Dean! Are you alright?”

 

Sam and Cas spoke over each other. Dean dropped into a chair, worn down from the fight and the trip. Cas gripped Dean’s face turning it back and forth, checking for any injuries. Sam was doing the same to Gabriel. Dean batted his hands away.

 

“I’m fine. It’s not my blood.”

 

“Then, to whom does it belong to?”

 

“Just some angels who attacked us.” Dean answered nonchalantly. 

 

“What angels?” Sam asked.

 

“The one guarding the gates when we tried to leave.” Gabe smiled sheepishly at Sam. 

 

Cas turned to his brother “What were you doing in Heaven? And why did you take Dean? Did you think they would let you in and then let you back out without a word?” Castiel boomed. Gabriel turned to look at his brother, exhaustion in his eyes. 

 

“It was all Dean’s idea,” Gabe whined at his younger brother. He wasn’t in the mood to be chastised. Sam turned Gabriel’s head back to face him, he was not done inspecting him for injuries. Sam’s brows were knit together in confusion and concern. Gabriel focused on studying his face up close. 

 

Cas turned to Dean “Your idea?” he asked with a tilt of his head. God that look was so sexy! Dean leaned forward to kiss the angel, paying no mind to their brothers. Cas leaned back just out of reach and quirked an eyebrow. ‘And the look gets sexier,’ Dean thought. 

 

“Dean, was this your idea?”

 

“Nope. It was yours.”

 

Cas frowned deeper.

 

“You said you wanted to save Heaven. I said you weren’t going back so I had Gabe take me.” Dean spoke with finality.

 

“Did you get the runes?”

 

“We did.” Dean sat forward and pulled the tiny notebook from his pocket and handed it to Cas. He flipped through the pages looking at the images only meant for the most privileged angel’s eyes. 

 

“Does anything else hurt?” Sam asked Gabriel paying no attention to his brother’s own conversation which he probably would have liked to hear but he was too preoccupied with the other angel.

 

“Nope.” 

 

“No? You looked like you got sat on!”

 

Well, yeah kinda.” Gabe smiled “I got squished by an even bigger sasquatch than you!” 

 

“Well that’s your own damn fault.” Sam declared, finishing his examination of the angel. Gabe frowned slightly and snapped his fingers. All the blood and wounds vanished. Sam’s jaw fell open but his shock quickly morphed into irritation.

 

“What? I just wanted to see that protective caretaker side of Sammy directed at someone besides Dean for once,” he shrugged. “Sue me.”

 

Sam crossed his arms and retreated back to the kitchen. Muttering as he did, “I would if you had anything worth taking.”

 

Dean had momentarily forgotten he had the ability to heal himself. He was so used to the years of taking a beating and not treating it, his brain didn’t put it together that he had an angel’s grace at his disposal. Seeing Gabriel heal himself, Dean did the same. 

 

“We can send Michael home, Cas.” Dean’s voice quivered. 

 

“Home?” Castiel asked, a little lost.

 

“Home, heaven. We can save it and get rid of him.”

 

“I thought you did not believe that to be a wise plan.”

 

“Maybe not, but neither is letting Heaven die and have to deal with all those souls. We got enough vengeful ghosts as is. We don’t need a whole ‘nother apocalypse type problem down here. ”

 

“We need to create a plan.”

 

“Cas, ya think we can deal with this in the morning? I’m beat,” Dean asked quietly. 

 

“Of course, Dean.” He placed the notebook in his own pocket. He would be up before Dean and could show it to Sam then. They could start working out a plan over their coffee. “Sam and I can make sure we have all the ingredients the spell calls for.”

 

They had forgotten Gabriel was still within earshot. He was uncharacteristically quiet.

 

“You two don’t worry about that. You just keep big bro in submission.” 

 

Dean scowled at him. “Since when do you encourage us?”

 

“Since I’m always instigating something, duh.”

 

Dean ignored the shorter angel. He just wanted to unwind with his favorite angel. Without a word he retreated to his room. Castiel followed silently. It seemed as if Dean was out of words for the day. Once in Castiel’s room, he undressed silently, throwing his clothes into the hamper. Cas followed suit, stripping down to his boxers. He wrapped his arms around Dean, pressing his chest to the other man’s back. The taller man relaxed into the touch, his head falling back to rest against a shoulder. Castiel pressed gentle kisses to the side of his neck. They were quiet as they wrapped themselves around each other.

 

Morning came too soon for them. Dean slept fitfully despite how peaceful he usually slept when they were together. His subconscious kept pulling up images of what Michael had done in the other-verse, what he might do in this world if he ever got loose. Dean didn’t need another apocalypse on his conscious. Cas did his best to soothe Dean in his sleep. It had minimal effect, he kept thrashing. He was so focused on it that he did not sense Sam approach the room. He jumped when Sam’s fist knocked on the door. 

 

“Come in, Sam.” 

 

The door creaked open. 

 

“Hey, we’re all set for the ritual in the library.” Nervous energy thrummed through Sam. He was ready for this all to be over and have his brother back. Then he wouldn’t have this constant nagging feeling that he was going to lose his brother yet again. It was fraying his nerves. 

 

The angel nodded, “I’ll wake Dean. We will be down shortly.” 

 

Sam closed the door and walked away. While he waited, he triple checked the spell and all the ingredients. Sam had all the ingredients laid out in a neat line on the table. The Hand of God was wrapped carefully in in several layers to avoid it being touched before it was ready. All the herbs surrounded it. 

 

When a sleepy eyed Dean finally made it out of his room, he headed directly to the kitchen. He emerged several minutes later looking more alert, a steaming mug held in his hand. 

 

“Alright, whaddaya got?” Dean asked overly bored, trying to mask his own nerves.

 

Sam gave him a quick rundown of what had to be done. It was going to be a two-part spell. They had previously altered the Hand of God to hold Michael. It had been quite the task. Sam had to be careful not to touch the cup so he held it in a vice connected to a table to etch the warding into the porcelain. Sam’s nerves were frayed by the end of the whole process. He worried with each stroke, the cup would break and be useless to them. 

 

Next up they had to eject Michael from Dean. Then they were only half way done. They had to get back into Heaven and all the way to the jail. It was going to be VERY long day. 

 

“So we do the spell, I drink from the cup and the dickbag is stuck?” Dean asked. 

 

“We hope.” Gabriel spoke up, more solemn than Dean had ever heard him. 

 

“We’ve done more on less,” he shrugged. “So when are we getting this thing rollin’?”

 

“As soon as Cassie gets here. No need to ruffle his feathers starting without him.” 

 

Dean tried not to fidget as he waited for his partner to emerge from the deep hallways of the bunker. Several minutes later, Castiel finally emerged. His forehead was deeply creased, his worry for his partner showing on his face. 

 

The first step would be to summon Michael to the surface. They all agreed that the best chance of trapping him in the cup, and not Dean’s soul, would be to give Michael control. It was risky at best and stupid at worst. Dean stepped into the circle of holy oil poured on the floor. The angel kissed Dean and stepped back out of the circle. A grim faced Gabriel lit the oil. 

 

Sam finished mixing the herbs together in a bowl to summon Michael. He lit the contents on fire. Dean’s eyes glowed bright blue, and he stood up a bit straighter. The bunker lights flickered. 

 

The seraph ignored the change in Dean’s vessel and murmured a constant string of encouragement. He prayed it would be enough to tether Dean in the moment. None of them knew exactly how powerful this other-world Michael really is. 

 

Michael’s only reaction to his younger brother was a twitch of his right eye. He must have been able to feel Dean trying to keep ahold of control. 

 

Sam held the wrapped Hand of God out to his brother. The seconds dragged on, looking more and more like this was a failed effort and he lost his brother again. Michael/Dean snatched the cup from his hands. He gripped the tiny porcelain cup so tightly, the onlookers thought it would shatter for sure. They all breathed a sigh when it did not. 

 

“Dean, drink it!” Sam urged his older brother. 

 

Michael was still fairly in the dark. He had figured out that they were trying to get rid of him, but he was unsure how. But if they wanted him to drink whatever was in the cup, it must be something to do with it he surmised. He eyed the cup warily, raising it just enough to smell the contents. It was coffee? How could coffee figured in to an attempt to trap him? 

 

As he tried to puzzle it out, Dean seized the upper hand. He drank the coffee in one gulp. At first it felt like nothing, the plan failed! Was the Hand a dud? That initial fear of failure was soon replaced by a sucking sensation. Dean had not felt anything that painful since his years in Hell. It reminded him of the hooks and chains that tore through his flesh as he hung in the deepest pits. Dean/Michael screamed as someone was ripped free of the body. All the tension meant the Hand was being gripped tight. The cup began to crack. 

 

The body fell to the floor, limp, left hand in the holy oil fire. There was no reaction, not even the basic instinct to pull away from the heat. Sam feared he had just lost his brother, for the second time in a matter of minutes. Gabriel doused the fire with a bucket of water the group had prepared earlier in the morning. 

 

Sam lunged for his brother, pulling his body into his lap, checking for a pulse. There was none. Tears ran free from his eyes, mourning his loss. He paid no mind to the cup that had rolled free of Dean’s fingers as he moved him. Castiel was stunned to inaction, as Sam cradled his brother corpse. Had he just lost his whole world? His brother and his lover? 

 

“Gabe, do something!” Sam wailed. Gabriel did as he was asked with no snarky comments. He knew it was not worth causing Sam further pain. The archangel pressed two fingers to Dean’s forehead, similar to how Castiel had healed him so many times before. There was no response. Sam bowed his head until it rested against his fallen brother’s forehead. Tears mingled with the sweat on Dean’s face. He was pale, as pale as when he nearly died and Sam found that faith healer to save him. Sam knew there was no saving him this time. 

 

Castiel fell to his knees next to Sam. A tentative hand carded through Dean’s mussed hair. Gabe knelt down behind Sam and wrapped his arms around the grieving man. 

 

The grieving trio forgot about their plan, about the Hand, and being rid of Michael. All that remained was their loss. They were pulled out of their reverie when a vibration began emanating from the forgotten cup. It was accompanied by the high pitched screech of an angel trying to communicate with humans. 

 

Castiel looked up slowly. Had their plan worked? Who was trapped? It had to be Michael, right? Dean wouldn’t possess the power to affect the Hand of God like that. But doubt filled Castiel, telling him it was only false hope. Dean was gone. That mantra played like a broken record in his head. 

 

Gabriel moved from Sam’s side and picked up the cup with a scrap of a rag left over. He could feel the heat coming off the mug. 

 

Again, the trio’s focus shifted when Dean gulped in a lungful of air. His back arched out of Sam’s lap, their heads nearly colliding. 

 

“Dean!” Castiel choked out, he threw himself Dean’s chest. Dean wrapped his arms around the seraph, coughing at the impact. 

 

“Did it work?” he gasped, barely able to form the words. His throat was raw from screaming and not breathing. 

 

“It did.” Gabriel answered. He was the most in control of himself and able to answer the simple question. Dean clearly was not his favorite human but he ached seeing Sam in so much pain. He was pleased the human had the sheer stubbornness to outwit Michael and survive this insanity. 

 

“Next step is a trip upstairs.” Dean whispered, determined to see this things through. Michael put him through a hell worse than actual hell. 

 

“Are—Are you sure you’re up for that?” his baby brother asked, worried for his brother’s sanity. “What about the other angels?”

 

“They won’t stop us. We put the beat down on them once already. They can’t afford to say no.” 

 

“Cas, can’t breathe.” Dean gasped, with the angel still wrapped around him. The trench coat clad angel slowly withdrew. A weak hand slid down his arm. Sam bent down and hauled his brother to his feet. He was shaky and in a second, Castiel was there to hold his partner upright. 

 

“Dean, perhaps it’s a wise idea for you to eat something first.” 

 

Dean perked up at the suggestion. Gabriel snapped, and the table was laid out with a feast straight out of Dean’s own dreams. All sorts of pies, huge greasy burgers, Chinese, and pizza. He had no idea where to begin. He stumbled to the table, dropping his tired body into the nearest chair and reaching for an apple pie. He was starving! He couldn’t remember the last thing he ate, even though most likely it had been the morning before. Not bothering with a plate, he dug in with his fork, shoveling pie into his mouth. 

 

The remaining trio slowly moved to the table, taking seats around Dean. Seeing his brother dig in made Sam realize he too was ravenous. Even if it wasn’t his usual grub, that pizza did look appetizing. He grabbed a plate and picked two pieces for himself. Grease and cheese dripped onto his plate. Following the elder Winchesters lead, Gabriel helped himself to the still steaming cherry pie. The men inhaled their food. Dean’s color returned, almost back to his usual bronzed skin. Dean clapped.

 

“Alright, so back to work?”

 

“Shouldn’t you take it easy for a bit?” Sam asked.

 

“No we’re halfway there. Let’s finish this.”

 

Sam and Castiel reluctantly agreed. Gabriel grabbed the teacup and snapped. The human brothers both fell to the ground, Sam landed on his ass and Dean on one knee. Neither had ever really adjusted to the teleporting thing. Dean groaned, shook his head, and got to his feet, shakily. 

 

Before them, was the sandbox that held the gate to Heaven. It was no longer guarded by the pair of angels. Strands of lights wound their way through the sand, completing the symbol. Once Metatron’s cube was completed, the lights jumped into the air winding themselves together. The archangel stepped into the light first, followed by the tallest in the group. Castiel and Dean linked their fingers together and stepped into the light as one. 

 

Just like last time, there were no angels in sight on the other side. Sam kept Ruby’s knife at the ready. The rest held their respective angel blades in front of them, ready to fight off any attack. The lights flickered every few moments. It was more often than Dean and Gabriel’s last trip up. Probably from the loss of the two angels they killed. 

 

Gabriel led the way back to the jail cell. Dean couldn’t have found the way on his own even though he was here just hours earlier. After enough turns to make the human pair dizzy, the shorter angel pushed open a near unnoticeable door. 

 

“That’s it?!” Sam asked, incredulously “It’s just a regular jail cell! How the hell is this gonna hold him?” 

 

Dean couldn’t see anything on the walls this time around, he ran a hand along the rutted wall of the open cell. Castiel could see the barely there shimmer Dean had perceived earlier. He squinted and tilted his head, drawing his partners immediate attention. 

 

“So how do we do this?” Dean never really got this part of the plan. 

 

“We place the Hand in the cell, secure it, and then shatter it. The power of the hand will be gone and it will release Michael into the locked cell.”

 

“And it’s gonna hold?” Sam doubted the plan yet again.

 

“It’s held every other angel placed here, since the beginning of time. Well…” Gabriel smirked “except me.” 

 

Sam’s eyebrows creased. “How did you get out?”

 

“I had help from some powerful friends.”

 

“Can we get on with this?! I don’t want to be here anymore than we need to be!” Dean’s voice was sharp and harsh against the stone walls. 

 

Gabe held his hands up in front of him, and put the Hand in the middle of the cell, on the floor. He gave the cell a once over before locking the door behind him. All four men back away from the cell. With one more snap, the tea cup shattered into a cloud of dust particles. 

 

At the same moment, the flickering lights ceased, and grew to full power. Michael was on the floor, his limbs and torso were twisted into an unnatural contortion. His joints creaked and popped as he untangled himself. He did not say a word as he righted himself and got to his feet. A scowl fixed on his face, he looked at his surroundings. Countless minutes stretched out before he broke his silence:

 

“This won’t hold me.” 

 

“It has held you before, brother.” Castiel’s voices was low and full of menace. Michael lunged at the bars, claw-like hands outstretched at his captors. The seraph pulled the door open for his family. They left the room single file, with Michael’s shouts and curses following them down the hall.


End file.
